


The rectoress' little annoyance

by tissaias_piglet



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: (always), Biting, F/F, Lesbian Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27803023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tissaias_piglet/pseuds/tissaias_piglet
Summary: It was barely 8am, and rectoress Margarita Laux-Antille was wondering what she’d done wrong that the gods thought she deserved Philippa Eilhart sat on her desk so early in the morning, smirking at her.
Relationships: Philippa Eilhart/Margarita Laux-Antille
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	The rectoress' little annoyance

It was barely 8am, and rectoress Margarita Laux-Antille was wondering what she’d done wrong that the gods thought she deserved Philippa Eilhart sat on her desk so early in the morning, smirking at her as she tried to read a chapter of her book before classes began. “Philippa, I really don’t have time for whatever it is you want. And that look on your face makes me think it’s even worse than usual so just spare us both and don’t,” she snapped, frustrated after days of Philippa bothering her.

Many of the Continent’s mages, including Philippa, had been attending and hosting lectures on magic and politics at Aretuza for the past week. And because all of the guests were staying inside the school, it meant Philippa had ample opportunity to seek her out whenever she wanted some entertainment. Which, it turned out, was often.

The lecture series was a yearly event which the rectoress always looked forward to. At least, she had been until Philippa sent back her invitation saying she’d be attending. She was invited, as were most mages, out of courtesy, but the Redanian sorceress had always ignored the conference, eager to be anywhere except back inside the walls of Aretuza. Margarita had questioned her about her intentions when she arrived, but Philippa was as vague as ever, flirting instead of giving sensible answers.

“You never have time for me, why is that?” Philippa asked as she made her way around the office, perusing the bookshelves and picking up anything which caught her eye, paying particular attention to artefacts which looked ancient and valuable. She knew Margarita hated it when anyone touched her things, although not as much as Tissaia de Vries would have done. She wouldn’t have put it past the old rectoress to drag her out by her ear if she’d touched anything in her office.

Margarita glared at her former student and gripped the book tightly, wishing she could hurl it at the sorceress’ head. She’d never known anyone so incredibly committed to causing trouble for others. “I have a school to run, and yet I’m cleaning up your messes at every turn. You got my students intoxicated on herbs from gods know where, and convinced them that you were teaching them polymorphy. Why? For your own amusement? To irritate me? It took me two hours to sober them up and convince them that they hadn’t all transformed into owls!”

Philippa snorted a laugh. She’d very much enjoyed toying with the students, perhaps even more than she’d have enjoyed flirting with them, which was her original plan. “I was bored, Rita. You won’t play with me, so I had to make up my own fun,” she shrugged, seemingly determined to make the whole affair the rectoress’ fault, despite it being anything but. She wasn’t going to let on that she’d decided to save her flirting for Margarita herself and not her students, and therefore had to come up with something else annoying to do.

Margarita rolled her eyes and stopped herself from responding, knowing that giving Philippa more ammunition would just prolong a conversation which she already desperately wished would end. She turned the page of her book with more force than necessary, frustrated, not even stopping to actually read the words in front of her, just needing something else to do other than pay attention to Philippa. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Philippa’s boots move away, but she didn’t even bother to kid herself that she’d won. One did not _win_ against Philippa; it was simply a case of waiting to see what she did next.

Philippa continued her way through the office, playing with trinkets and tossing things up in the air haphazardly, trying to get a reaction. She pouted and scowled as she was studiously ignored, knowing that she would have to up the ante to make Margarita react, although she took some satisfaction from the fact she was clearly not taking in a single word of her book. Deciding to take a more direct approach, she sauntered over to where the other woman sat on the couch, her feet resting on a pile of embroidered pillows. Philippa kicked the pillows out from under her feet and grinned at the furious look she received.

“Philippa would you st–” Margarita found herself suddenly unable to speak, unable to finish admonishing Philippa. The sorceress had swiftly taken the book from her hands, thrown it behind herself without care, and straddled her, all within a matter of seconds. Margarita just barely stopped herself from reacting and grabbing onto Philippa, which she knew would be giving her exactly what she wanted. But gods help her, she did look delicious there on her lap, and the scent of her perfume was intoxicating. The rectoress was tempted to try and sit on her own hands to try and resist touching her.

Philippa had never hid the desire she felt for her, anyone who’d spent longer than three minutes with the two of them could see it. She was certainly never one for subtleties. Using a combination of her weight and her strong thighs, she Margarita trapped in place with no room to move, and leaned over her slightly, enough that she had her lips hovering over the rectoress’.

“Get off me Philippa,” Margarita demanded without a quiver in her voice, her gaze strict and disapproving despite the starting ache between her legs. She felt her skin prickle at the low, sultry laugh which left Philippa’s lips. She could almost feel it against her own lips, so close was Philippa’s lovely mouth to hers. “Philippa, I mean it, stop this at once.”

“Is something the matter?” Philippa asked innocently, though her tone was incredibly suggestive, angering Margarita more than anything else. She shifted a little, repositioning herself, and it could have been innocent, but the sinful way she ground down on Margarita said it wasn’t.

The rectoress choked down a groan. She needed Philippa out of her office before she completely abandoned her sense of propriety and gave in to what they both so desperately wanted. “What do you want?” she growled. The idea of fully shoving Philippa off her lap was tempting, but she couldn’t risk hurting her. And anyway, she had a sneaking suspicion that Philippa got off on pain and would probably regard such behaviour as foreplay.

Philippa cupped Margarita’s cheek, tracing the outline of full lips with her thumb. “I want to get off. I was doing it myself when I thought I’d rather have your fingers inside me,” she said bluntly, smirking. “I wouldn’t protest if you wanted to taste me as well, I do taste- fuck!” Her eyes were immediately forced closed by pleasure, and not a little pain, as Margarita roughly pushed three fingers inside of her with no warning, making the other woman stiffen against her.

“Shut up,” Margarita demanded, fingers moving ruthlessly inside the sorceress, wanting to hurt her almost as much as she wanted to see her come.

For once Philippa obliged, the only noises she made being moans and whimpers. She reached out, trying to get her hands on the rectoress as well, but Margarita stilled inside her instantly. “If you touch me, I’ll stop. Don’t think that I won’t, Philippa,” she growled. Philippa bristled, scowling, not enjoying being told what she could and couldn’t do, but the frustration – and her breath – quickly left her as Margarita’s skilled fingers began moving inside her again, making her shudder deliciously as she rode them.

“You’re wasting my time Philippa, I have better things to do than wait for you to come,” Margarita smirked, knowing that her sounding bored would anger Philippa more than anything ever had. In response, Philippa moved her hips faster, somewhere in the back of her mind hoping she was at least making Margarita’s hand sore.

Margarita thrust her fingers harder, curling them to press in just the right place, and felt Philippa’s thighs tremble either side of her. It was incredibly seductive to have so much control even though Philippa was on top of her, pinning her down. The idea that it was up to her whether or not Philippa got to come was making her almost embarrassingly wet, and she was grateful that they weren’t naked, or she was sure Philippa would never let her hear the end of it.

“Fuck, I need it,” Philippa groaned, as close to begging as she could ever bring herself to be. She was on the edge, trembling and losing her rhythm as she tried to keep moving against Margarita’s fingers, sweat beginning on her back as she came closer and closer to release. It infuriated her that Margarita seemed to know exactly how and where to touch her to make her completely lose control.

She ground down hard, leaning in so her forehead pressed to Margarita’s as she panted. In her new position, every thrust made Margarita’s hand press against her clit at the same time, and Philippa fell apart with a cry, the pleasure too much to hold back any more. She sank her teeth into the rectoress’ shoulder as she came, clenching around her fingers, coating them in slick wetness.

“That wasn’t bad at all,” Philippa smirked, panting against her, a smile playing on her lips at the fact she’d finally got Margarita to touch her. The rectoress seemed too dazed to respond, caught up in the fact that she’d enjoyed being bitten like that.

After a minute, Philippa sat back to look properly at Margarita, reaching out and tracing her finger along the very evident bite mark she’d left. She smirked, starting to make a comment about it being quite noticeable, when she saw Margarita reach out, summoning the book that she’d so carelessly flung away.

“You may go, Philippa,” Margarita dismissed her, sounding much too indifferent for Philippa’s liking. She was desperately trying to resist the urge to push Philippa back, spread her legs, and devour her until she screamed. Her fingers were still soaked, and she wanted to suck them and taste the other woman.

Philippa brought her hand up to cup Margarita’s cheek, running her thumb along the rectoress’ full lips. She wanted to kiss her again, maybe grind on her lap until she came, then demand to be eaten out. She certainly wasn’t in the mood for a dismissal. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” she purred, bringing her hand up to Margarita’s cheek, running her thumb over full, soft lips.

“Perhaps, but I’m done with you.” The rectoress sounded much too happy about treating her with such disinterest. Philippa grit her teeth. No one dismissed her like that. “For now,” Margarita added, with a sickeningly sweet smile.

Philippa’s anger dissipated immediately, although she still didn’t enjoy not being in charge of the situation as she’d planned. But for now, it was enough. She stood up, legs shaking slightly from stretching out of their previous position, and her dress fell back down, covering her glistening thighs.

“I’ll be in your chambers tonight then, rectoress,” she promised with a smirk, stealing a brief, heated kiss, before leaving Margarita alone in her office, dazed and aching, to spend the rest of the day thinking about what Philippa could possibly be planning.


End file.
